


Paradise

by AfanofManyStuffs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sex, Angst, Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Romance, Grace - Freeform, NSFW, Nightmares, Non Explicit Sex, Smut, Wing Kink, angel - Freeform, has been called a tear jerker, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfanofManyStuffs/pseuds/AfanofManyStuffs
Summary: Life with Castiel is perfect, until a nightmare threatens to ruin it all.





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off of Paradise by Coldplay. Originally posted to Tumblr for Beca's (@becaamm) Song Challenge.

You shoot up in bed, causing a dizzy spell to wash over you. You hardly notice the sensation, still seeing the frightening images you had lived moments before, an expression of horror painted across your face.

 

Slowly sinking back down into the pillows, still fearful, you almost let out a scream when an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into a broad chest. “Shh, shh, Y/N, it’s just me,” he soothes, his deep voice rumbling through you comfortingly.

 

“Cas,” you whisper in relief, turning around and hugging him in relief. Your angel would protect you, like he always did. The dream you had was so strange- you and he were fighting, even though you… weren’t dating? And then you had driven away in a rage. But the monsters still came and shredded him until he was just a bloody pile of grace and flesh and blood and fabric in front of you. You let out a whimper at the thought of the frightful images flashing through your mind.

 

“I’m right here, my honeybee. Even if I was killed, I’d always find my way back to you… Don’t think I could even exist without you,” he mumbles into your hair, arms clutched tight around your waist, pressing your body against his tightly.

 

“Me neither,” you whisper back, burying your face into his collar. He always knew what you were thinking, even unsaid. Both of you were naked under the sheets, never having been bothered to slip on something after your passionate lovemaking earlier in the evening.

 

The world still seems hazy and indefinite to you- as if it were the dream that was reality and this was the dream. You _hate_ those kinds of dreams. You’d had them before, but they had never been nightmares. _But it was just a dream_ , you told yourself. _I’m here with Castiel, in our own home. The tree by the lake where we made love the first time is out there, not fifty feet away from the house. We’re all but married, only stopped by our natures._

 

But the feeling won’t fade. You need to be grounded here, not by fear of a world that didn’t exist. “Cas, baby…” you whisper in a voice still trembling, shifting your body so that you were less half lying on him and more straddling him, torsos aligned, “Please, make love to me. Make me forget all about that awful dream.”

 

He shifts you so he could see your face in the pale moonlight streaming through the window, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure?” he asks, wanting confirmation.

 

You nod; resolute. “Yes. Please, Castiel?” you beg, running your hands down his sides with a feather light touch. “I need you.”

 

The touch on your cheek turns into a cup as he brings your lips down to his, kissing you lovingly; taking his time. This was one thing you love about Castiel; every time he touches you, he explores you like it was the first time all over again. _But with more accuracy_ , you muse as he kisses a trail down your neck and starts to suck on your sweet spot. Flipping you both over, he draws a gasp from your lips, which are still slick with saliva and flash faintly in the dim light as you toss your head.

 

The sheets rustle as you draw your legs up to curl around Castiel’s waist, one hand threading fingers through his hair as he torments a breast, the other digging into his back. A moan breaks through the relative silence of the night as he pleasures you; tendrils of his Grace teasing you lightly where his hands could not touch.

 

With a great force of will, you unclench the hand on his back, wrapping it around his waist instead. Drawing a light, loopy line across his back to the shoulder blade, you search for that one spot. You knew that he could feel it, although you couldn’t. You could tell when you had found the base of a wing when his breath hitched, movements pausing for a second. Smiling softly, you reach out with your senses, brushing a finger along what you thought was the base. He trembles over you, eyes shut and form slightly glowing; trying to keep himself under control.

 

“Let go, Castiel,” you whisper, leaning up to trail a line of kisses down his jaw; ending it at his lips. The moment they touch, a bright flare of light lights up the room brilliantly, giving you a glimpse of his wings. It was then that he truly descends on you with passion; never losing the heavenly glow of light around him.

 

**–**

 

You wake up the next morning wrapped in your angel’s arms, pressed tight against his chest. Sighing happily, your eyes flutter open. He greets you ‘good morning’ with a slow, unhurried kiss, as if they have all the time in the world. Which, in a way, was true, you consider, breaking from him to blink up at the angel. _Your_ angel. This was true bliss.

 

“Good morning,” you say simply, brushing a few strands of his hair back, tracing your fingers down his slightly prickly face.

 

“Good morning,” he replies, eyes never leaving your face or fading from focus. “Sleep well?” he inquires, although you were sure he knew the answer.

 

“Yes… Thank you. I know you watched over my dreams.” You snuggle into his chest, a little embarrassed that you couldn’t deal with a simple nightmare.

 

“You’re welcome. I don’t like to see your dreams disturbed,” he responds, tilting your head up so he could lean down and kiss you once more, chastely.

 

The kiss quickly becomes heated, and your bodies soon twine in the familiar throes of pleasure. Touching and touched; no other thought but the other in your minds. You soon reached your peak with a scream of his name upon your lips just as he swells and releases, the glow of Grace surrounding you both as his voice joins yours in the air with the pale sunlight.

 

Later (after another, delightful shower that lasted two rounds; the water still miraculously hot), he joins you at the table as you have breakfast. “Did you still want to go boating today, my honeybee?” he asks you over the paper he scans out of habit; mostly making sure there aren’t any cases in the area.

 

You blink; not recalling this discussion. However, it does sound fun. “That sounds perfect, Cas,” you reply over the mug of coffee, suddenly excited for the new adventure.

 

**–**

 

The next several days are filled with a similar pattern. Fun outings with Cas, evenings in watching movies or admiring the stars, and lots of passionate sex, better than you remembered. It was just you and Cas in this little world of yours, and you’re perfectly content. It has been this way for a while, and it would be like this for a long time.

 

It was bliss, and you never want to give it up. This is your happy ending, and you will do anything to keep it. Your only worry is the nightmare that kept haunting your waking hours, but Castiel is always able to soothe it away.

 

Every word spoken on the grass under the stars; sounds of devotion and love; reminiscing of their past; desires for the future, are all spelled out one gorgeous moonlit night. It ends in physical manifestations of love and flashes of Grace; your screams the thunder to his lightning.

 

 _No love could ever be deeper than this_ , you think as you fall asleep once more on his chest, late at night.

 

**–**

 

The next morning, you are greeted by Dean rudely barging in the front door. Strange, for you haven’t even heard the Impala come up. Cas is out, getting groceries. You had elected to stay behind to work on a little sewing project you have going. Setting down the feathered lingerie, you greet Dean somewhat sarcastically.

 

“Dean! How unexpected of you to come. Has texting ahead become unfashionable?”

 

He doesn’t answer your passive aggressive statement. Instead, his voice is strained with pain. “Y/N. I don’t know how to say this gently. You’ve been caught by a Djinn and are dying. You need to wake up.”

 

Your brow wrinkles in confusion, tone going from confused to angry. “Djinn? Dean, how do you even know about those? You- Have you been reading my diary again? I swear, if Sam has hacked my files one more time, I will kill the boy!”

 

His voice is sharper now. “Y/N! I’m a hunter, just like you. Remember? Remember the time I walked in on you with the- the vibrator? Hell, remember the time you walked in on me?”

 

Any expression on your face suddenly drops; the blood rushing from your face. “No…” you whisper in disbelief; denial trying and failing to push back the sudden flood of memories. Closing your eyes against the sudden onslaught of tears, you force your voice to be steady and only half succeed.

 

“How long do I have left?” you ask; a desperate chance at a fantasy you want so dearly.

 

“Hours, the doctors say. Cas fixed your body, but you haven’t woken up. Sweetheart, you need to wake up!”

 

You can’t stop the tremor in your lip. Hours aren’t enough to live a lifetime, even with a Djinn fueling your fantasies. “How?” you whisper; eyes still closed against the world. But you feel it when Dean takes your hand, leading you forward a step.

 

“Just come with me. I’ll lead you out.”

 

The next few minutes are forevermore a confusing blur in your memory as you transition from a deep sleep to wakefulness. Dean jolts up with a gasp in the chair next to you; a strange woman smiles and accepts money from Sam, going her way. Likely a psychic.

 

In the corner, watching silently, stands Cas. You look away before there’s any chance of eye contact.

 

**–**

 

The way back to the bunker is a long journey - turns out that nightmare wasn’t really a nightmare. You and Cas had blown up at each other over something -you couldn’t even remember what now- and you had driven off in a blinding rage. You had been walking back to your car from the bar when you had gotten snatched; easy, drunk prey for a Djinn. Sam and Dean had gotten to you in a matter of hours, but the next several days had been spent in a hospital, waiting for you to wake up.

 

For the entire eight hour ride, you look out the window and listened to Dean’s old rock and roll; refusing to even acknowledge the angel in the trench coat next to you. You let yourself be swept up in your thoughts to pass the time, stubbornly refusing to cry in front of three men. Thus, it was completely silent in the backseat for a very long time.

 

The second the impala stops, you bolt out of the car, too upset to hear Dean’s remark about needing to use the restroom. Tears stream down your face as you plow into your bed, as you collapse on a pillow, sobbing helplessly; overcome by the weight of loss. Paradise- _paradise_ ; the life you had always wanted for yourself, was gone, leaving only this miserable world to be resigned to.

 

You only sob harder as you went over each perfect moment with Cas, torturing yourself with sweet agony.

 

**–**

 

Castiel stands hesitantly outside the open doorway, watching you. He does not know what you saw; or what you did while trapped in your dream. All he knows is that he wants to ease your suffering.

 

After a few minutes of standing there, paralyzed by indecision, he steps in and sits next to you on the bed. You do not pause your uncontrollable weeping, even as he gently places a hand on your shoulder and rubs soothingly. After a while, he hoists you up to rest in his arms; smoothing your hair away from your face.

 

He does not push you to talk, and you do not talk. There is only the steady stream of tears and sobs to break the silence, occasionally punctuated by his low soothing sounds.

 

After time -you do not know if it is hours or minutes, for time tends to slip from your mind when consumed by the angel- your sobs eventually cease as they give way to sleep. Castiel gently lays you back down, slipping off your shoes and pulling a blanket over you. He seals your dreams to happy things with a kiss to your forehead, and silently leaves, musing on the complexity of the love he feels for you; love which, he is certain, is not returned.

 

He does not, cannot know that it is the happy things which torture you most. That it was the happy things that you wanted most while lying in his arms.

 

**–**

 

For a long time after that day, that experience, you wake up crying. The boys never mention your puffy and red eyes in the morning, although you know they notice. Your attention is consumed with avoiding Cas, making sure that he does not know of what you live every night.

 

For you must be certain he has no clue of the false bliss that you see with clarity every time you close your eyes; that you crave and dread all at the same time. The paradise that you can never have; can never attempt to have, lest you ruin what you already have. The paradise that is poisoned by trauma and a monster.

 

You can only hope that the place is your heaven, and that you go there once you die, so that you may be forever with Castiel. Or at least… A version of him.

 

**–**


End file.
